Heart and Soul
by LuciaTheScribe
Summary: *WARNING* Story contains themes of rape, abuse, and manipulation. (Elsanna Frozen AU) *NOTE: I do not harbor hostility towards Catholicism, I, myself, am Catholic. I apologize if this offends you in any way.* A conflicted Anna struggles with her religion, her relationships, and identity.
1. Chapter 1

**Note: I'm not a particularly religious girl and haven't been inside a church for a long while. Forgive me if I get some facts wrong...Overall, I'm not especially happy with this beginning, but...Whatever.**

* * *

**_Anna_**

"Anna, dear, are you ready to leave yet?" My mother's voice emanated from behind my bedroom door.

I sighed, furiously rubbing the wrinkles out of my 'special' black dress reserved only for Mass. Every time I got rid of one wrinkle, another wrinkle would pop up in another place, occasionally with reinforcements. I gave up when a particular wrinkle bloomed into a slightly bigger crease.

"Yes, Mother, one moment please. I-I just need to get dressed and we'll be off." I tried to keep the irritation out of my voice and sound like my cheery self, but it just made my voice crack. I winced when my mother commented on it, asking if I had a sore throat. I shook my head, realized she couldn't see it, and responded, "No, just a little tired..."

"Well, I'll leave you to that and wait in the car." She didn't pause for a response and padded away.

I heaved out another sigh and gazed around my room. The room was practically dedicated strictly to Catholicism. From the bible on my night stand, statues of Jesus and Mary, heaps of rosaries, and crosses lining my plain white walls, I was constantly reminded of my faith.

Not to mention that I attended an all girls catholic school, due to my mother's constant paranoia of me even exchanging glances with a boy. She felt that I shouldn't even associate with boys until I was of marrying age. And, thus, I never shared a kiss with a boy, or, heck, even have a full conversation with one. Except, you know, guys in the family or the elderly men and very young boys at mass. If I even so much as greeted a boy, my mother would swoop in, apologize, and usher me away.I admit, I was fairly curious of the opposite sex, but, it didn't particular bother me that I never got to..._be _with or near one.

I never really had a father figure either. Whenever I asked my mother about my father or ask why she hadn't remarried, she would always respond with an amused smile and say the same admittedly cheesy line, "I'm married to Jesus, dear." Then change the subject to my bible studies.

Speaking of which, that's all I read. The bible or holy scriptures. I was forbidden to read anything else, especially not fantasy or science fiction or any of that.

I never watched television, never played video games, and never listened to music. (The only songs I listened to _had _to relate to God or Jesus or something to that extent.)

Most people would call this life miserable. However, I don't feel that it is. Granted, I'm not particular happy, but I'm not sad either. I don't know how I feel.

I've had Catholic ideals pounded into my head as soon as I could understand speech, but I never quite grasped it. Don't get me wrong, I love my faith, but sometimes I wonder why I don't carry the same zest for the thing as my mother or the people of the church do. I know I'm supposed to pray before dinner and every night before bed, but I don't know why. I know homosexuality is a sin, but I don't know why.

Anyway, after throwing on the dress, I stumbled down my stairs and outside to where my mother was waiting. Not sharing her feelings of giddiness as we rode to church in her car.

...

After dipping our fingers in holy water and performing the sign of the cross, we took to a pew particularly close to the front. We sat down and waited for the sermon to , as soon as it did, my heart stopped.

Our former priest left due to unknown reasons, so that day, he had a replacement. Who happened to be the most dazzling creature that I had ever laid eyes on.

He was a tall, young looking man, with copper colored hair, large sideburns, and an endearing little splash of freckles across his nose. When he smiled it seemed genuine, and his green eyes were so full of wonder that it seemed to me that everything he looked at, meant so much to him. Like he had been previously blind and wanted to savor every moment of his new found sight. He introduced himself as Hans and made a joke that I didn't hear, but made everyone chuckle warmly. In fact, I didn't hear most of what was being said, too engrossed by his entire being.

Maybe it was my imagination, but he seemed to steal glances at me in particular...Or maybe I was just mistaken.

When it came time for the Sacramental bread, my hands became clammy and my heart quickened its pace. I would be right. In. Front. Of. Him.

In line, I trembled uncontrollably, waves of panic rolling over me every time the person from the head of the line would leave with the bread in their mouths. When it was time for me to accept 'the body of Christ', I was silently praying to God that I wouldn't embarrass myself. As soon as that thought came, I tripped over my own two feet and landed face first in front of him.

I heard a choir of gasps and some giggles from behind me, but other than that, it was silent. I felt hands lift me up and my face grew hot when I was practically face to face with Hans. He wore an affectionate smile and then held out a wafer in front of me. "Body of Christ." He stated, his voice smooth like velvet.

I awkwardly made some inhuman noise, shakily took the wafer, popped it in my mouth, and took the walk of shame back to my seat.

...

After mass was over, some people stayed to congratulate Hans on a job well done...Including my mother and me...Well, mostly my mother, because I had forgotten 17 years worth of English.

"That was _absolutely_ lovely, Father." Mother gushed, giving Hans her full attention, not noticing her red-faced, practically convulsing, daughter at her side.

Hans positively beamed with delight, which didn't help my situation. "That is very kind of you to say." He then looked right at me and gave me an...odd look. "Are you okay, child?"

"F-Fine-" I started, until my mother interjected.

"Oh, Anna? Do you have a fever?" An alarmed expression overtook my mother's features as she stared at me.

Hans continued with his odd look, "I suggest you get her home..." Then he went back to smiling broadly, "See you both next Sunday." His eyes lingered on me, then went back to conversing with the other churchgoers.

...

**_Hans_**

Hans paced his apartment, sweat drenching his clothes. Warmth was spreading to...inappropriate places. He continued to pace, mumbling incoherent words to himself, until he couldn't take it anymore and addressed his problem.

He sat on the edge of his bed, pulling his pants to his knees and tugged at his member, growling angrily a particular name to himself and imagining a certain redheaded girl.

When he was done, a smile came to his face, beastly excitement overpowering him in anticipation for the coming Sunday.

* * *

**Elsa will be introduced next chapter.**


	2. Chapter 2

**_Elsa_**

The din of the coffee shop began to diminish as I packed away our equipment. The only sounds that remained were the buzzing from the coffee machines and the gentle tapping of employees cleaning up. The calming, repetitive noises allowed my mind to wander...That is, until a heavy hand clamped down on my shoulder, startling me out of my trance.

"Great job, Snow." Warm brown eyes met my cold blues. Kristoff's goofy grin illuminating his baby-like face, a guitar neck firmly gripped in his hands.

I mirrored his expression. "You weren't so bad yourself, Bjorgman."

Kristoff rolled his eyes, the grin still plastered on his face, and turned around to put his guitar back in his guitar case.

I guess I should properly explain; for the majority of my teenage and current adult life-I've been flat broke. I had run away from home, due to reasons I shall not delve into,and had been living with Kristoff in an apartment that no self-respecting person would be caught dead in.

I had met Kristoff when I had worked part-time as a pizza delivery girl. (I still stink of pepperoni to this day.) At first, I completely ignored him and all the other employees. I didn't want to associate with others and still have trouble having 'normal' conversations with people. However, Kristoff was persistent, after months of one-sided conversations, he wore me down. I started talking to him and found out that we had more in common than I thought. Similar childhood upbringings, same Norwegian descent, and the same views towards people. He generally distrusts people but sought me out, because he felt it'd be a healthy experience to talk to someone that _wasn't _a dog. (He owns a German Shepherd named 'Sven'-a stray he found by a garbage bin in an alleyway.)

Kristoff told me of all the odd jobs he had taken just to put food in his mouth. He was a janitor during his high school years before he dropped out, animal handler for squealing children's birthdays, a telemarketer for a place selling car warranties, a worker at an auto assembly line, and he hosed off the floors of slaughter houses. (The last one scarred Kristoff so much he denounced meat for the rest of his life and even cries a little when he passes a frozen meat section of a grocery store.)

During his childhood, he lived with his mother, traveling place to place. Once, when it seemed like he had a permanent home, there was a terrible flood that damaged his entire house. His family was told to leave it or they would be _forced_ to leave, so his mother left Kristoff to hide in the house for a while-approximately a couple weeks, until she got them a trailer, where he lived until he was 16. He ran away after a particularly nasty fight with his mother and her new drug-addicted boyfriend.

After exchanging life stories, we grew to be quite fond of each other-in a friend way- and decided it would be best if we were to combine forces and help each other through difficult times. Sure it's a shitty life, but we make the best of it. Yes, we both sleep on a small mattress on the floor while we both wear parkas to keep our body temperatures normal, but you know what; it builds character.

Under those circumstances, we both had 3 jobs. We shared a performing job at the coffee shop infamously known as 'Jitters'. I also had a housekeeping and a bookstore clerk job, while Kristoff maintains a job at a pawnshop and as a cashier at a grocery store called 'Food 'N Stuff'.

I turned my attention back to my guitar case, hefted it up, and held it close to my side. "Ready to head out?" I inquired, motioning towards the door with my head, causing my braid to whip around and smack me in the face.

Kristoff saw this and snorted, his face contorting to hide his amusement. He managed to pull himself together and responded warmly, "Why, of course."

We said our goodbyes to the few people who worked at 'Jitters' that didn't turn up their noses at us and made our daily trek back home.

The blistering cold greeted us as soon as we opened the door, however, Kristoff and I paid it no mind, we've grown accustomed to the bitter weather.

I took in the familiar surroundings of the neighborhood-the boarded up restaurant that got shut down for 'rat problems', the shiny cars that lined the driveways of beautiful houses, dog walkers running to chase after their excited pooches, and a very...well-endowed woman jogging.

Kristoff, clearing his voice, caught my attention. There was a sly look on his face, "Appreciating the view? I can't blame you, those beauties are something."

My face grew so hot you could burn a marshmallow off of it. I smacked him playfully on the shoulder, "Shut up."

That's something I forgot to mention. I've liked girls for as long as I could remember. In fact, I got caught kissing a girl I had a play-date with at _two years old. _I clearly knew what I wanted.

"Elsaaa, don't be embarrassed," Kristoff drawled, putting an arm around me and pulling my closer. "Be proud! So what if you prefer pink tacos instead of meat daggers-"

I clamped a hand over Kristoff's mouth. His voice had a tendency to travel. As a matter of fact, a elderly woman shot him the dirtiest look possible, causing Kristoff to let out a muffled snort. I tried my hardest to send her an apology with my eyes, but the damage was done. "Goddammit, Kristoff, why am I friends with you?"

Kristoff muffled something, let out an aggravated sigh, and pried my hand off of his mouth, "What do you mean? I'm a charming young man."

I shook my head, smile on my face as I took his hand, "Yeah, a regular gentleman." I pulled his hand a bit, "Come on, let's hurry home."

* * *

**I apologize for the slow pace, I just want to introduce the characters. Next chapter will have an Elsanna interaction, I swear on my life.**


	3. Chapter 3

**_Elsa_**

_The crushing feeling of roaring gloom surged around me. I couldn't see a thing, but could hear everything-sounds like throngs of people talking at once. I groped around the darkness, attempting to meet friendly hands or some sort of object, but I didn't feel anything._

_The putrid stench of smoke was inhaled through my nose when I attempted to take a deep breath, making me hack violently._

_A thin, phantom-like outline began to take form in front of me. The person's posture was lolled and relaxed. _

_The smell of smoke and something I couldn't quite place began to overpower my senses._

_..._

I sat upright in bed, breathing hard, and sweating profusely despite the lack of heat of the apartment. I turned my head to the side and met concerned brown eyes staring back at me in the shadowy early morning light.

"Elsa, did the dreams come back?" Kristoff asked, his voice thick with sleep. I could feel Sven shift by our feet, but go back to sleep.

I broke away from his gaze and looked out the window over his blonde head. Rain clouds had risen above the roofs of buildings making the sky seem entirely dismal.

"Yeah, and here I thought they were gone for good." I muttered absently, trying my best to avoid Kristoff's gaze for fear that it would send me into tears. "I guess I still haven't gotten over it, yet."

I heard Kristoff heave a sigh, "Listen, if you want to talk-"

"No!" I shouted a little too loud, "No...Sorry, I just...I'm just going to go visit Olaf then go to work. I'm fine." I tried to ignore the unconvinced look on my closest friend's face.

...

Cowenburg Medical Center was a large French red brick hospital.

An ambulance unloaded the hospital's new patient nearby, the sirens' howling ceased. I've learned to ignore the sound a long time ago. It became an all too familiar sound when my little brother would be whisked away every time a brittle bone in his body would break.

As the boy or girl was rolled into the hospital on a stretcher, a few passerbys stopped to stare with sympathetic eyes. I didn't bother to stare and started towards the entrance.

...

I really despise hospitals. They just make me feel really uncomfortable. With the withering bouquets of flowers in rooms where families/friends have forgotten their owners, the smell of antiseptic cleaners, the wistful look of the ill as the pass by me in the hall, and the cries of despair of patients not willing to let go...It all just drains me.

I'm able to relax, though, as soon as I get to my destination.

My lanky, one-armed brother sat upright in the hospital bed. He put a spoonful of soup to his lips and slurped. He was about to swallow until his eyes roamed to me, as a response he promptly spat out the soup.

"Hey!" A large smile lit up Olaf's sickly pale face. He practically threw the tray of food off of his lap and patted the space on the bed next to him. "Come, come."

Olaf was always a sickly child, but it wasn't until he was 12 years old when he developed osteosarcoma - a type of cancer that effects his bones. He began to break bones as easily as twigs. His limbs swelled when he tried to perform normal activities. He limped everywhere and his face was often flushed and sweaty. Then, when he was 14, the cancer took his arm. Now, he had a permanent stay at Cowenburg for the random tumors that would occasionally pop up randomly in his bones.

In the beginning, when he found out he head osteosarcoma, he kicked and screamed. However, after years with the disease, he had grown used to his fate, as sick as that sounds.

I sat down next to him with a warm smile. Almost immediately, he threw his arm around me, gripping me tightly. "I've missed you so much. It's been so looooong."

I chuckled at his exaggeration. "It's literally been only a day, sweetie."

"I know, don't remind me." He pulled back to look me in the eyes, "Do you want to go to the patio?"

"Of course."

...

Olaf took me out to the backdoor of the hospital, onto the patio where multiple patients like to hang out. The terminal ones even smoked cigarettes, and, therefore, the nurses didn't care and just let them do what they wanted.

I stared at them all with their oxygen tanks and iv's. Most of them skeletons in shape and form.

Olaf limped over to a redhead girl who had no legs and sat in a wheelchair in front of a table. She held a cigarette inches away from her mouth, staring at the smoke that lingered in the air.

She only looked up when Olaf cleared his throat, "Are these seats taken?" He motioned to the two empty seats on either side of her.

The redheaded girl smiled sadly, "I suppose they are now."

Olaf using all of his strength, gently lowered himself down. The muscles in his body struggling to support him. The pain on his face made me wince. When he was finally sitting, he gave me an small smile, probably a bit embarrassed about showing how weak he has gotten.

Then his expression changed in an instant to one of pure jubilation, "Oops, forgot to introduce you two!" He gestured awkwardly to the redheaded girl, "This is the _lovely _Ariel." This made the girl smirk, "And this, Ariel, is my _beautiful_ sister Elsa."

"Way to kiss ass." I groaned, rolling my eyes at him. I sat in the chair next to Ariel.

Olaf looked mock offended, "Is that any way to talk to your beloved brother? How unladylike, and, frankly, _rude_."

Ariel smiled at the both of us, resting her composedly in her hand. She then took a drag of the cigarette in her other hand, and stated, "It's nice to meet you, Elsa. I've heard a lot about you from this big goofball." She nudged Olaf in the side with her elbow.

Olaf then frowned, looking confused, "Hey...Where's Eric?"

Ariel sighed and looked as if she might start sobbing. Her face twitched to conceal her emotions, "He...Isn't visiting me today...apparently..." Her voice trailed off to a quiet whisper.

My heart throbbed at the disappointment in her voice, making me feel terribly guilty, as if I were the one who wasn't visiting her. A sickness washed over me. The nausea was enough to make me gag. All I could imagine was Olaf looking and sounding this lonely.

I didn't pity Ariel. I didn't pity Olaf either. Pity is a terrible thing to feel towards a person - it's like saying you're superior. So, what I was feeling was definately not pity just...shame or...disgust towards myself and this 'Eric' person. And I didn't even know the guy!

"He _claimed _he had a fever today and couldn't come...But I know the real reason." There undeniable bitterness in her voice. She glanced at my brother and me with glassy eyes, "You know what he said to me the other day? He said he couldn't _deal _with this anymore...That it was _torturing_ him...As if he was the one with no legs and a life threatening disease. I think the real reason he didn't show up is because he couldn't look his dying girlfriend in the eye." She was getting worked up, her voice cracking painfully. "I can't believe this..." She lowered her head, and I could tell she was crying.

I shifted uncomfortably, looking at Olaf out of the corner of my eye. Searching for the same hint of bitterness on his face. He just looked concerned. "Um...Ariel, I'm not defending Eric's actions or anything, but...It _is_ hard to see someone you love suffer...But what he did was cowardly and completely unacceptable. You deserve better."

Ariel nodded slowly, head still lowered. She has probably heard this all before. "I'm sorry...Can we talk about something else? Anything else?"And so we did.

I couldn't shake the nauseous feeling overcoming me. All I could imagine was Olaf speaking with the same bitterness as Ariel...Talking about me in the way she did. I tried to ignore the lonesome look Olaf gave me when it my visiting time was over. I just kissed him on the top of his head and left.

...

I had some time to kill before work...I needed a change...I needed a distraction.

My wandering eyes fell to a church, nestled between a couple pine trees. It cast a warm glow onto the street.

I've never been a religious person...I don't believe in God, Jesus, or anything spiritual...But I've always admired people who did believe. They knew where they would be going after they die. They don't fear the unknown, because they have a place for themselves.

I sighed, debating with myself whether or not to go inside. The curious side of myself won, and I went forward towards the large oak doors.

The church was pleasantly warm compared to the biting early winter outside. I scanned the church and found there were only a couple groups of people in the pews. They were all praying. I silently stepped to the middle area and tried to sit with as little noise as people so to not disturb the people sharing the pew with me. However, as soon as I sat, the girl next to me snuck a peak at me. Well...It was more of a stare. It wasn't with malicious intent, but made me feel uncomfortable all the same.

I slowly turned my head to stare back at her and...my breath caught in my throat.

The girl was absolutely gorgeous. Her skin was smooth and fair. (Not quite as pale as my own, but nearly there.) She had glittering teal eyes, rosy cheeks, dark pink lips, long strawberry-blonde hair, and had cute little freckles across her face.

I could feel my face flush and, for some reason, so did hers. Most likely from being caught staring.

"Oh...Um...Hi!" The girl said in a voice that was a tad too loud, causing heads to whip around to glare at her. Her face reddened to a cherry-like state. "Oh, geez..."

The woman next to her warned in a whispered singsong voice, "Anna~ do your prayers~."

"Oh, right. Ok. Sorry." She apologized to no one in particular and went back to praying, but every so often she would look at me with curious eyes.

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**This took me a long while to create. I kept erasing and doing it over. I'm finally somewhat satisfied with it so hope you all enjoy it!**


	4. Chapter 4

**I apologize for the late update. I got food poisoning and major dehydration so I felt and still feel like shit. I'm sorry in advance for any mistakes or awkwardness in my writing.**

_**Anna**_

The beauty of the girl next to me took me aback. She was literally the most stunning girl I've ever seen. She was a tall woman, with a slender figure, long platinum blonde hair, piercing blue eyes, a small nose and very pale skin with a dusting of subtle freckles across her nose.

I was surprised the girl hadn't fled in fear of my creeping. For some reason she hung around, flashing me a small, nervous smile whenever she caught me looking at her.

Anyway, I didn't really want to pray that day...I know that's bad, but my heart wasn't really in it, so it wasn't like I was being distracted by this girl...To be distracted you have to be _invested_ in something, and I was clearly not invested in anything. I think God would forgive me for this one moment of nonreligious activity...If you count creepily staring at pretty strangers an _activity_.

I, then, wondered about her life. I began to concoct her life story in my head - an activity I often did when I saw interesting looking strangers. Judging by her appearance, her parents must be just as aesthetically pleasing. I concluded from her clothes - an oversized peacoat, ripped gloves, dirty boots, and ill-fitting jeans - she was not as financially fortunate as others. She probably had a number of jobs she performed in to make ends meet. With looks like hers, I wouldn't be surprised if she had a boyfriend...Or was engaged...Or even married...With kids even...Maybe she had a terrible life. Maybe her life was in pieces, but she hid her feelings well from others...Maybe she was just down on her luck and was starting to get her life back together.

Making up my own imagined life of hers somehow made me feel more comfortable next to her. It made her less intimidating. I felt that I knew this woman inside and out. It also made me realize that I desired to know her _real _life story, interests, fears, likes and dislikes.

I can't tell if these thoughts make me seem creepy or just really lonely. Maybe both.

I was so caught up in my thoughts that I almost didn't even notice that my mother was finished praying. She tapped on my shoulder and smiled at me.

"Alright, little lamb, let's be on our way."

My words stuck in my throat and let out an involuntary gasp. When my voice returned, I croaked out, "Oh, um, ok let's g-"

"Oh?" My mother focused on the blonde girl that I had gawked at for the majority of the time we spent there. "Well, you're a fresh face. I don't believe I've seen you in here before, sweetheart."

The girl started, looking uncomfortable for a moment. "Oh, I just thought coming in here would be a...Nice change of pace." (Even her _voice_ was gorgeous.)

My mother appeared to be satisfied with her answer, "Should we expect to see you in here more often, dear, or is this a one time occurrence?"

The girl paused, debating her answer. She looked at me, then at my mother, and then her surroundings. She answered so quietly that I almost didn't hear her answer. "That is a possibility."

My mother beamed, clapping her hands lightly. "Fantastic! We'll keep an eye out for you on Sunday."

...

**_Elsa_**

Now I had another thing in my life to commit to. In my past, I walked away from a lot of things...People and places - this and that. I never had long-lasting relationships - I either dumped the girl because she got too close or was dumped because I never opened up to her.

However, now, I made a point of sticking around for things...No matter how small - like attending church on Sundays. At least it gave me a lot of things to do to keep my mind off of the rent worries or personal problems.

I watched as the older woman sauntered out of the church. I expected the girl to follow close behind her, but she just sat there, fixing me with an intense stare that quickened my heartbeat.

"Do you really mean that?" She inquired. She flushed for a moment, looking as if she didn't mean to let her words slip out, but didn't take back her question.

I couldn't properly speak, so I just nodded my head.

The girl's face lit up, she was about to speak, when the woman's voice called out, "Anna!~"

She immediately shot up and bolted for the door. I listened for an expected crash, but heard nothing.

_Anna_...

...

**_Anna_**

Looking back, it's something I've always had: As a kid, it was an elevator floor I crouched at the bottom of, my eyes closed tight, or bridge whose gaps I'd be afraid to slip through, though someone would always say I'd be fine - 'Just don't look down' or 'See, it's not so bad'. Then later it was the height of the diving board from the pool, the tree-house perch, Ferris wheels, balconies, cliffs, and the littlest thought of airplanes. You can call it a fear of heights, but it wasn't the fall that made me lightheaded, made my stomach churn, it was the edge that gave me an opportunity to leap.

The same could be said for opportunities that would be presented to me that would give me to choice to deviate from my lifestyle. My unwillingness would lead me into many pointless scraps with the rebellious girls in my school. In St. Matthew's School for Girls, there were two types of girls; the ones who followed the rules, and the ones who did the exact opposite. The latter insisted constantly on outings or controversial activities as a means to escape from their 'monotonous' lives. After many refusals, I thought that they would give up on me - forget about my existence and leave me in the sleepwalking stupor of my life. Some did, however, others were very persistent.

I've heard it all. Invitations to smoke behind the school, to go out drinking, etc. etc.

They never gave me too much trouble, though. My answer was always unconsciously made. Before the girls could get a word out, I would immediately turn them down. I would always keep myself within the fence - within a safe little box. Whenever I felt baited, it was almost an instinct to refuse.

As of late, though, I felt trapped and suffocated.

So, on a cold afternoon, I wasn't surprised when I was approached by an energetic, bouncing girl.

Rapunzel, as I remember, used to have long, flowing blonde hair that she kept and maintained. It grew to be down by her thighs. Her green eyes would shine with wonder. After, a long summer, however, she came back with dyed brown hair, cut short and a permanent mischievous glint in her eyes. The latter she sported at the moment when she approached me.

"Arendelle, how are you this on _beautiful_ day?" The girl drawled, matching my pace on the walk back to my house.

I fidgeted with the sweater on my uniform, "What do you want, Rapunzel?"

Rapunzel put a hand to her chest, her mouth open in mock offense, "Can't I just ask how a fellow student is doing without them thinking I want something of them?" I looked at her sternly, and she sighed, "Okay, yeah, I want something. I suggest we..._wander _into The Alco-Hole Saturday night - precisely at 10."

I knew all about The Alco-Hole. That was the name I grew to loathe from all the offerings that were introduced to me in this school.

I should have said no. That was what was expected of me. But...I felt conflicted.

I avoided her eyes and stared at the dew on the grass at my feet.

Rapunzel, surprised that I hadn't condemned her yet, let an intake of breath. "_Anna Grace Arendelle_! Are you _considering_ it?" She probed me with the question, but I didn't respond. "Oh my God!"

I flinched at her taking the name of the lord in vain. I whispered, "Only just this once. I don't want anyone else to know about this. _Alright_?" I enunciated the 'alright', punctuating it with a glare.

Rapunzel was so thrilled that she squeaked with delight. "Oh, don't worry about a thing! Wow, this is exciting. Okay, okay, I'll get you a fake ID by tomorrow, and we'll be all set."

I felt extremely dizzy, but exhilarated at the same time. Regret plagued one side of my mind, while curiosity took over the side.

...

**_Elsa_**

I stood behind the counter of The Book Nook, calmly reading because of the particularly lethargic day.I was actually enjoying the still atmosphere, that is, until a hand tapped excitedly on my shoulder. I looked up to see Kristoff and Eugene. The latter with his brown hair in his eyes and a scraggly beard on his chin, right beneath his smirk.

Eugene was Kristoff's old high school friend - he was the only one who didn't make fun of Kristoff for being a janitor at the school in order to afford attending it.

I had no idea why the two were at my job. They didn't like to read. Therefore, I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me from squinting at the small text of my book, so I just blinked at them.

"Flynn and I have a proposition for you." Kristoff began, moving his hand from my shoulder to Eugene's shoulder. "Take it away, buddy."

I immediately heaved a sigh. I knew these two like the back of my hand, and I also knew their propositions were never good.

"Beloved Elsa...It would be a honor for you to accompany us on Saturday night to The Alco-Hole."

I knew it. They wanted a babysitter. Whenever they would invite me on a night out drinking I would always be the sober one who watched the two stumble around like idiots. I wanted to refuse and go back to my book, but I didn't want to disappoint them. I nodded, but before they could celebrate, I announced, "You guys owe me though. Big time."

The two were the definition of glee. Eugene's hands were clenched into triumphant fists, "Absolutely, anything you want."

Who knows, maybe it'll be fun?


	5. Chapter 5

**I'm feeling less nauseous today, so here you go. **

* * *

**_Anna_**

It wasn't something I wanted to discuss further. Whenever Rapunzel would attempt to talk to me about it, I made some dumb excuse and got out of the conversation. I suppose it was the guilt of my situation. I couldn't even look my mother in the eye. At one point, I considered calling the whole thing off with Rapunzel, but it was also something I really wanted to do.

It was the second day I had been avoiding Rapunzel. It was Friday when I was gathering my things to leave class early, then the bell rung. As I was about to bolt, a hand grasped my shoulder in a vice-like grip. The brunette cleared her throat and looked to the side. I followed her gaze to my seat, took the hint, and sat down. Rapunzel took a couple steps forward and delicately sat at the desk next to mine. I felt a tightness in my chest - fearing the confrontation. I felt so shameful that the sting of tears threatened the rims of my eyes. Maybe I was overreacting.

"I'm sorry." I finally spoke quietly before the girl could say anything first.

Smiling at me, she shook her head and laughed. "You know, you don't have to go. I'm not forcing you. You're obviously really nervous about this-"

"That's true," I interrupted, burying my face in my hands, "But I want to go...It's just...I feel so _sinful_. I just want to experience something that has nothing to do with religion." Next thing I knew I was choking back an unexpected sob as Rapunzel patted my arm reassuringly. I knew that Rapunzel was forming words of encouragement in her mind, but didn't know how to address the situation. She had probably never dealt with someone like me before. Rapunzel was the type of girl who converted all the rule abiding girls to willing, rebellious thrill seekers.

Rapunzel finally sighed after a while, "Would I be far off in saying that your faith is causing you stress? Religion should be something that brings peace of mind...Not burning agitation." Rapunzel probably didn't realize she was doing it, but her words were starting to make me feel a bit better.

"Has anyone told you can be inspiring when you need to be?" I laughed, lifting my head to look at Rapunzel. I still felt weighed down by guilt, but it was considerably lighter than before.

"I make a decent motivational speaker, I guess - usually my words end up all tangled up, though." She admitted with a giggle.

"I suppose...I'll see you Saturday night?"

"If you don't pussy out on me."

...

**_Elsa_**

It was 11:59. In a minute it'd be Saturday. Kristoff was off somewhere, I was all alone, and I couldn't sleep. Heaving a sigh, I leaned back in my chair, angling my head towards the cobwebs and stains that made up the ceiling of our apartment.

I then turned my attention to picture of Olaf and me that rested on our nightstand. He was much shorter in the picture and had more body mass compared to his current state where he resembled a cross between a skeleton and a twig. His hair was longer, too. And he had both of his arms. Six months after the photo was taken, osteosarcoma spread through his entire body. Two years after that, one of his arms were trade for a bandaged stump.

I sighed again. I was starting to get emotional, I could tell, because there was a tightness in my chest and my eyes were getting glossy. The last time I got super emotional, Kristoff found me in a heap in the bathroom, sobbing and mumbling to myself. I had gotten better, of course, but I've gotten to a point where I would hide my feelings - from myself, Kristoff, Olaf, and nearly everyone. I would suppress them inside of myself. To be honest, I haven't _really_ cried in a couple of years.

But I knew suppressing my feelings wouldn't solve my problems. If anything, my problems would grow to blow up in my face. However, I still held myself back.

I needed to make myself feel better somehow. I supposed I could screw around with my guitar for a while, maybe even make a song, but I had already done that so many times that day during work that it wasn't really worth the effort. I wondered what Kristoff was doing. It wasn't like I could call him to talk, we didn't have a phone. I wondered if Olaf was awake at this time, I sort of hoped not, he needed his sleep. Despite how much I'd kill for his company, I wouldn't want to make his situation worse for him.

I had toyed with the idea of finding a girl to spend the night with, but didn't dare try to cross that line, not even as a consolation. Firstly, the poor, unsuspecting girl would have no way of knowing she would be used for my own pathetic feelings, and, secondly, I had no desire to wind up in another conflict that ended up causing another person to shed tears over me. But another option reached out to me. I would allow myself to be with a girl, as long as there were no strings attached. I didn't want to have to piggyback anyone through my drama.

I made a decision. An impure decision.

I grabbed my coat, left a note for Kristoff, and set off for my destination.

...

I knocked on the red door with an gloved hand. I stood back and stared hard at the door, nearly burning holes into it with the intensity of my gaze. It took a couple more knocks until a sound was heard behind the door. Seconds later, it slowly swung open.

A woman dressed in a yellow t-shirt and pajama pants stood in the doorway. She had long, brown hair and possessed captivating hazel eyes, full lips, rosy cheeks, and a sculpted body.

It took a minute for her to process who was in front of her. When she realized who I was, her eyes grew huge.

"Elsa!?" She exclaimed.

"Belle." I responded, grinning at her reaction.

I had met her in middle school. We gained a mutual friendship based on the fact that we were the only 'out' girls in our grade. We lost touch when I dropped out of high school, but I found her again when I had a housekeeping job at her house. We caught up, and she told me to come hang out with her anytime. I would go to her house occasionally, but never for a long time.

"Why are you here? It's 12:00 in the morning!" Belle announced, though I could tell she wasn't angry. She had a concerned look on her face, "Is something wrong? Did something happen to Kristoff...Or Olaf?"

I flinched slightly at the mention of my brother's name, "No, no. Nothing like that. May I come in?"

Belle looked as if she was debating whether or not to let me in, but, in the end, moved to the side to allow me through.

As I passed by her I couldn't help but notice the goosebumps on her skin from the cold...And that she wasn't wearing a bra. I think she realized this, too, because she quickly crossed her arms over her chest after she closed the door. She studied me for a while before leading me to her kitchen.

"I'll make you tea." She offered, immediately rushing to her to teapot. She filled it with water and turned on the stove. As she did this, I sat on her counter, my eyes roaming her entire body. She gazed over her shoulder at me and beamed. "I have plenty of chairs, you know."

I smirked, "Oh, I know. This just looked more comfortable."

Belle laughed and turned around to face me, hands on her hips, "...So, are you going to continue being all mysterious and vague, or are you going to tell me what's up?"

I scrunched up my nose, "Nothing's wrong. I couldn't sleep, so I decided to visit an old friend. What's the harm in that?"

I could tell she didn't buy that, but she didn't press any further. That's what I loved about her; she never tried to make me express my feelings.

Just then, the piercing whistle of the kettle sliced the air. Belle whipped around, lifted the pot off the stove, turned off the burner, and filled two teacups full of the boiling water all in one fluid motion. I watched her as she carefully dipped teabags into the cups.

"How do you take yours?" Belle asked, eyes still glued to the cups.

"A lot of cream and a spoonful of sugar."

Belle added the appropriate amounts of cream and sugar into both cups and handed me mine. She lifted her mug toward mine, one eyebrow raised. I rolled my eyes and clinked our mugs together in a toast.

We both took a long sip. I watched her lips as she drank, admiring the way her lips formed around the rim of the mug.

As if she knew I was thinking lewd thoughts about her, she stopped drinking, raised her head and locked eyes with me. Her smile grew slowly, seemingly pleased at my sudden eye contact. My smile grew to match hers.

"Something tells me you came here for more than a friendly visit." I could hear the tease in her voice. "Am I wrong?"

I didn't answer her. Instead I just took another small sip of tea, my eyes still locked on hers. Her eyes flickered to my lips, and her smile turned into a smirk.

"Elsa," Belle put down her cup and moved closer to me, "What were your intentions when you came here?" She took the cup from my hand and put it back on the counter. Then she wrapped her arms around my waist, pulling me closer to her. I could feel her bare chest through her shirt. She moved her lips to my neck, her breath ghosting my skin. The feeling sent a electric shock through my body, eliciting a slight moan from me. She stepped back, pulling her shirt over her head, revealing her breasts.

"Are-Are w-we doing...this?" I stuttered, my breath becoming labored.

Belle didn't say anything, she just took my hand, and led me into another room.


	6. Chapter 6

_**Elsa**_

"Wake up, Elsa." Belle said in a strained voice. She reached out and closed her fingers around my own and squeezed hard. "I'm going to need you to get up."

In the silence that followed, I opened my eyes and noticed the lines on Belle's face due to the frown she was sporting. I've been woken up like this before on almost regular basis by women, so I was sort of used to it. I've even woken up women in this way. But, unlike the usual, I didn't jump up to get ready to leave. For that moment, I remained laying in her bed, naked.

I glanced at the digital clock by Belle's bed. It was 5:00 am.

My gaze then roamed to Belle's body. She was naked as well, but she held a towel in front of her nether regions. I could feel my face grow hot when visions from the night before came to me. The feeling ran through my entire body. I drank in her wholeness, her disheveled appearance and smooth skin. She was gorgeous. She had always been gorgeous. I never felt a romantic interest towards her, but there definitely was a psychical and sexual attraction there.

Belle cleared her throat, snapping my attention back to her face. "Elsa, I have work today. Your cooperation is key. I carry a strict schedule of eating breakfast, showering, dressing, touch-ups, and then I leave and lock the door behind me. Now, it's not that I don't trust you - I totally do - it's just I get agitated when a person is in my house when I'm not."

I decided to tease her a bit, "Oh? You don't want me to stay the whole day with you? To alleviate your tedious life? Or are you too popular for little ol' me? Am I not pretty enough?"

She rolled her eyes, but smiled at the same time, "Yeah, that's it. I maintain a celebrity status and don't want little ol' you ruining my reputation."

"All right, all right. I'm getting up. I need to go to work anyway." I flipped the blanket off of me and sat on the side of her bed. I looked over my shoulder and saw Belle staring at me in the same way I was looking at her earlier. "Like what you see?"

"Maybe." Belle stated, getting closer to me until our noses were practically touching. I could feel her hands wandering around my back. She reached back to my front and grasped my breasts, caressing softly. She positioned her face so that her lips were millimeters away from mine, but didn't lean in. She just watched my face, studying my expression. Her tongue flicked over her full lips. I searched her eyes for the slightest sign of any romantic intentions. But there was only a look of lust and amusement from our previous conversation. "We should do this again sometime."

All I could do was nod dumbly, get dressed, then set out to work.

...

**_Anna_**

I traveled to the church by myself that Saturday afternoon. During my trip, the air was smoggy and people were crowding the sidewalks. The haze clouded the car's windshield, so I drove carefully with the windshield wipers on.

My mother had gave me permission to borrow the car for a small moment. She trusted me.

That particular day took my back to my childhood; riding in my mom's car, with my mother driving, my uncle in the passenger seat, and me in the backseat. I would fall asleep after being woken up early to attend mass. Sometimes my uncle, Nathaniel, would climb into the back to share a thermos full of hot chocolate or just wrap me in a blanket cocoon for cold days. When we would attend church in the evenings, I'd stare into the darkness of the road and count the cars that'd pass, their headlights piercing the darkness. I'd listen to the deep and twangy voice from the radio singing gospel with the engine humming softly in the background.

After a while, the church would greet us with our warm lights, and the three of us would pile out.

My mother and uncle used to be inseparable. They were twins, and when they were children, they would spend all their time together. That all changed when my uncle came out of the closet. My mother, and nearly the entire family, ostracized him, as if he was a complete stranger. I remember crying and asking my mother if he was going to hell. My mother, with a terrible grimace on her face, told me that he absolutely would. I was shocked. My mother, who just the other day, stared at him with adoration, now looked at him with absolute disgust.

Uncle Nathaniel still lived nearby, he never left. He just never contacted the family after his alienation.

I was so deep in thought that I almost missed the church. After parking the car near the entrance, I entered the church.

There wasn't really anyone there. Just a couple of people sprinkled here and there.

I took my place at a pew and sat down. Now that I was there, I didn't know what to do. I was going to settle for praying, when a hand tapped my shoulder.

I spun my head around to face a smiling Hans. All of my air was immediately sucked out of my lungs. He kept the smile on his face when he spoke. "You look troubled, Anna. What's the matter?"

The words caught in my throat and I couldn't speak. All I was really able to do was stare dumbly at the dazzling man before me. He took my silence as an invitation to sit beside me. When he sat he crossed his legs, tapping his forefinger against his knee. He was still smiling which made me even more flustered.

"I...I'm having trouble with my faith." I finally managed to choke out. I looked at him expectantly, but he was still making the same face, urging me to go on. "I don't feel like I even have faith sometimes. Maybe I'm just confused, but...I feel indifferent towards my religion. In the past, it was sort of an escape, I guess, but even then I didn't understand a lot that was being taught to me. It seems to me like a lot of what's being taught doesn't apply anymore or is just plain weird or wrong, you know, like; 'Slaves obey your earthly masters with deep respect and fear. Serve them sincerely as you would serve Christ.' or 'Do not wear clothing woven of two kinds of material.' or 'Whosoever … hath any blemish, let him not approach to offer the bread of his God. For whatsoever man he be that hath a blemish, he shall not approach: a blind man, or a lame, or he that hath a flat nose, or any thing superfluous, Or a man that is brokenfooted, or brokenhanded, Or crookback, or a dwarf, or that hath a blemish in his eye, or be scurvy, or scabbed, or hath his stones broken … He shall not go in unto the vail, nor come nigh unto the altar, because he hath a blemish; that he profane not my sanctuaries.' I mean, why do we still follow the bible when it has passages like this in it. Don't get me wrong, the bible also contains morals that should be followed, but...But..." I stopped to breath and found myself getting embarrassed. "Sorry, I'm rambling."

Hans looked amused and shook his head, "Don't worry, I understand."

"The cruelty is especially awful. Why should people be condemned for things completely out of their control?...What do you think?"

Hans thought for a moment and responded, "I think you are right on some level, but flawed in another. It's true, some passages seem a tad outdated or cruel in nature. However, passages like; 'Therefore, as God's chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience.' remain. I believe people take what they want from the bible and mold their own beliefs that way. On the topic of your faith, I believe you're just...young. Still so full of confusion. Still only maturing. You may feel as though you are incomplete. I've been there. I may have...Steered away from the right path in the past, but...I found my way again and so will you. The Lord forgives."

I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. His words gave me comfort, enveloping me in a warmth of familiarity. I may have gotten a little misty-eyed from relief. "Oh, thank you. Thank you so much."

"Remember to come see me if you have a problem, Anna. I'll be here."

...

**_Elsa_**

After a long day of cleaning stranger's houses, I returned home with my uniform disheveled and a grimace on my face. I looked at the desolate ruin that was the front yard of the apartments. Grass grew in unevenly, pale brown and nearly dead. Even the bushes struggled to exist, and the oak trees were so dwarfed from the lack of decent soil. Considering how it was winter, these plants would mostly likely wither out of existence.

The apartments, in the years I had lived there, had never been orderly maintained. We didn't have anyone who handled yard maintenance. The residents were slovenly and hypersensitive. If they were told to clean their rooms a deep resentment would set in and the complex would reek of spite. Literally and figuratively. I felt that a lot of them purposefully left everything disgusting in an effort to cause annoyance to everyone which, in turn, left more resentment from the other residents and the landlord. It was a deadly cycle.

While we are on the subject, Oaken, our landlord, lived around the corner from Kristoff and me. He was wide, tall, strawberry-blond haired. His mouth was small, and he had light blue eyes. He was admirably kind, but probably the most sensitive person in the whole complex. To insult him in anyway was to make him itch with fury. He has evicted residents before for simply calling him, 'Strict'. He loved Kristoff and me, though. Especially me. He felt that we were, as he put it, 'In the same boat,' because we were both gay. He let a lot of our bullshit slide, and I was extremely grateful to him.

After exiting out of the elevator, I nearly slammed into Oaken.

He whistled at me when he saw my disheveled state. "Hard day, yes?"

"Yes."

Oaken steered me immediately by the shoulders into his room. When in his room, he burst into action. Busily preparing tea for me. He did that a lot whenever I looked stressed out. I sat a wooden table and traced figure eights onto the surface with my finger. Oaken gave me five minutes of peace before he asked his questions. He knew that I didn't like to be bombarded. He simply slid a cup into my hands and waited.

"Don't you think you're pushing yourself too hard, dear?" Oaken asked.

"Probably..." I said, then followed up, "Maybe that's a reason why I'm actually going to the Alco-Hole tonight..."

Oaken's face lit up. "Oh, good, dear! You deserve some fun."

"I suppose."

"...So...How's your brother?"

There it was. The question that hit home. I flinched and quickly responded, "He seems fine to me."

Oaken raised and eyebrow, he could see right through me. He knew I was hiding. "There wasn't anything wrong with him, dear?"

"Not that I know of. Even if there is, it isn't in him to tell me. He doesn't want to be a burden."

"You should be more open with me, Elsa. I've told you that." Oaken said ruefully.

I shifted uncomfortably. I wanted to say; _'I feel like he's becoming impatient with me. I'm being too distant with him. I want to be closer to him, I **truly **do. I love him so much. It's just...Too hard to see him disintegrating in front of me. It's hard to look at his face without thinking of him shrinking out of existence.'_

Instead, I simply said, "I'd rather not talk about this right now, Oaken. I'm...I'm going to go."

"Wait, dear. I'm sorry. It seems my big nose likes to stick in places it doesn't belong." Oaken chuckled in an uncomfortable way. "Please, sit. I won't ask anymore questions."

I smiled at him. A real, genuine smile. "I appreciate the offer, but I really do have to get dinner started and get ready for the night. Maybe some other time, okay?"

Oaken's smile was sad. "Alright. Bye bye."

"Bye."

...

_**Anna**_

I've had alcohol. When you're a child in a Catholic family you're going to get win shoved down your throat. At one family gathering, I was offered wine. Of course, me being the type of person that wants constant approval, I accepted. I still remember my first time drinking it. The first thing that struck me was that the taste was terrible. It left a bitter coating on my tongue that didn't leave the whole day. The second thing that struck me was it left me with a weird tingly feeling in my chest. It was like the wine was intermingling with the blood in my veins. I drank some more, because I really enjoyed the feeling. After that, the day was a blur. Apparently, I got out of control. I was never offered wine again.

Needless to say, I was dreading the evening's events.

That night, I convinced my mom to let me stay over a friend's house. She automatically agreed because she didn't suspect any ill intent.

* * *

**Sorry, for the late update. The next chapter will take place at the bar, I promise.**


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